Chapter 2

If Gideon was correct, and the horse had been dosed with Shalmo, then that had probably been the Gagel agent’s intent—to taint the treaty between the two nations by making it appear that Marcela’s horse had been drugged by Zioneven agents. That goal had been thwarted because the drug had activated while the horse was mid-sprint, resulting in a lethal outcome for its rider, and downing the horse so the drug’s effects were not apparent. Gagel hadn’t needed to kill Marcela. Likely they’d only wanted to make it appear that an attempt had been made…by Zioneven.

“What did Hugh witness?” Efren asked. “And why didn’t he stop it?”

“He did not witness the drug being administered,” Gideon replied. “If indeed that is what happened. We’re making an assumption based upon what happened after the man abruptly fled the scene. Hugh was tailing him before the accident occurred and knew nothing of it until his return.”

Presumably, Zioneven’s motive would have been to acquire the innocuous and undereducated Prince Marcelo in lieu of his sister. In Sheburat’s matriarchal society, Princess Marcela would have been brought up to be a shrewd diplomat. Her loyalty would likely have remained with Sheburat, and she would have done her best to sway Zioneven’s policies in their favor and communicate any intelligence she managed to acquire.

However, Queen Giselle—along with all of the Sheburat entourage—had appeared genuinely shocked when Efren had chosen Marcelo as the contingency plan. But perhaps they would have considered the mildly less-hardened next-younger sister to be enough of a motive. Or perhaps King Deverick of Gagel simply hadn’t recognized the degree of Sheburat’s cultural blindness to the possibility of one of their men entering into a marriage contract with another man, and he’d erroneously assumed Queen Giselle would attribute that motive to the attempt on Marcela’s life.

That marriage had been the final detail sealing a treaty between the kingdoms of Zioneven and Sheburat. The treaty had allowed for a contingency plan with Efren being allowed to choose a replacement from among Marcela’s younger siblings. He’d chosen Marcelo for several reasons. Because as Marcela’s twin, Marcelo was the same age and the marriage would not have to wait for the next younger sister to reach her majority. Because Marcelo was a na?ve, yet empathetic and intelligent soul, which made him a better political choice from Zioneven’s perspective. And because Efren preferred the company of men.

Efren pulled in a deep breath and paused while his heart rate settled. “What made Hugh notice him, and how did the man gain access to the stables?”

“With the arrival of so many courtiers and diplomats for the wedding, there were added and unfamiliar stable hands, making it relatively easy for a spare man to walk in, pretending as if he belonged. But Hugh had been paying attention and knew the guy had been lurking around the village for days. When the guy slipped into the stables, Hugh would’ve raised the alarm, but the man exited almost immediately after his entrance, and Hugh figured—wrongly, apparently—that he’d been shooed out before he could do whatever he’d come to do. Still, he’d seemed worth watching, so Hugh followed him.”

Efren nodded. It would have taken mere seconds to poke the horse with a small, Shalmo-dipped barb. Easy to conceal and appearing as if merely patting or petting the animal—if anyone had noticed him. But none had admitted to witnessing suspicious persons or activity when they’d been questioned.

“All right.” Efren gritted his teeth. He was not looking forward to his upcoming conversation with Queen Giselle of Sheburat. “Go now. Speak with Denis.” Denis Byrde was the captain of his security detail. “We need to confirm if that is what happened, and if so, find out how Gagel got ahold of Shalmo, how much they have, and do they have the recipe to make their own.”

“Right away, sir.” Gideon gave a curt nod and left.

Queen Giselle, her husband, and their remaining six daughters had not yet made their appearance in the great hall, but Efren had no doubt they would come down to see them off. The sounds of servants scurrying through the upper corridors confirmed they were in the process of readying themselves.

Efren sat at the foot of the table where Marcelo waited in the seat at his right hand. Two plates were swiftly placed in front of them.

As he’d done every time they’d encountered each other in the two days since Efren had arrived, Marcelo respectfully remained silent, waiting for higher-ranked Efren to speak first. Efren took only a moment to decide Marcelo deserved to know the potential for danger they would face on their journey to Zioneven, but let them each take a few bites before speaking.